


Sometimes its not ok

by Pegggy21



Series: Derek and Stiles in the woods [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark fic, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Stiles gets kidnapped, but also fixing them, derek hale talks, derek saves him, ends well, i love hurting them, its kinda bad I'm sorry, just so you know, stiles is raped, stiles is tortured, there will be more fluff after this, there will be more to this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegggy21/pseuds/Pegggy21
Summary: Some bad guys kidnap Stiles and torture him. Derek, and the pack, save the day





	Sometimes its not ok

**Author's Note:**

> OK there is some graphic depictions of torture, defiantly not the worst on here but enough to be bad. There is also some depictions of rape from a female torturer to Stiles.

When Stiles woke up he wasn’t sure where he was. It was dark, but he could hear the highway? Yeah, the highway. He was in a dog kennel, he could feel the bars. When he tried to feel for the handle to open it he found it had be retrofitted to have a padlock. He cursed. The only thing to do now was wait. Wait for whatever was going to come. He must have fallen asleep a little, because he didn’t see anyone come in.

The man was opening his kennel, dragging him out by the hair. Stiles tried to reach his spark, but there was nothing there.

“Reaching for your magic, little Spark? Too bad you’re in a room that neutralizes your abilities.” The older man cackled as he dragged Stiles to a contraption. He tried to fight but found he couldn’t move much. They must have drugged him. There were two chains hanging from the ceiling with cuffs on the end, Stiles assumed for his wrists. There were similar chains in a pile on the floor. The man let the chains down so that he could handcuff Stiles’ wrists. He then pulled Stiles up so he was suspended in the air. The man cuffed his ankles too, pulling them so he couldn’t kick out. This was not good. This was not going to be good at all. The man pulled a waist height tool box over. The man smiled at Stiles. He selected a knife from a drawer. He used it to strip Stiles. “Now, you’re probably wondering why you’re here. Well, we want someone to play with, someone to make Derek and that pack pay. We don’t have any questions for you, no ransom asked for you. We are going to torture you, show them, and make sure you die in the most pain we can manage.” He used the knife to cut little slits along Stiles’ bicep.

The man went to a camera and turned it on. Then returned to Stiles. He started by slapping him across the face as hard as he could. Stiles groaned, the scarlet handprint already showing. The man smiled. He kneed Stiles in the balls, hard. Stiles gasped loudly. Blood was dripping from the slices in his arm, the man ran the flat of his knife across the swell of his bicep, smearing the blood. He made matching cuts on Stiles’ other arm, deeper. Stiles let out a whine of pain. The man laughed again. He put the knife down in favor of a meat tenderizer. He swung it at Stiles side. His rib broke audibly.

Stiles was awash in pain. His broken ribs screamed, his arms burned. The man swung again, lower. Stiles let out a shout as his hip was hit. Three more times the cold blunt hammer hit him. Then he changed tactics again. He had a whip. He went behind Stiles. Stiles lost count of how many lashes he got, of how long it went on. He was aware someone was making hurt noises, and screaming, but he didn’t realize it was him. Eventually he passed out. He didn’t see the man take the recording and send it to someone.

The next day, when he woke, he screamed at the loss of his spark. There was no magic in him. He didn’t know where he was. He had been taken away from Beacon Hills. They didn’t want anything from his pack except to watch him suffer. And he knew they would succeed. How long would he have to endure this before they found him? He flinched when someone new came in. A woman. She had a washcloth and a bucket of water. She let him have a few drinks. She washed his arms and back, then his chest and thighs. She came in close, dragged the cloth across his groin. She sucked on his nipple as she ran it over his balls. She pressed herself against him, stroking his dick until it got with the program. He didn’t want this. He was trying to stop her, his whole body shaking with trying to get away. She laughed and kissed him possessively. He pulled her skirt up, and guided herself onto him. He cried out, he didn’t want this. She rocked her hips on him, bringing him in and almost out. She reached to his face and made him kiss her. She sucked more on his nipples and licked his moles. She rocked and sucked until he came. She laughed in his face. She turned and left him, his own cum dripping down his thighs. He cried that night. Angry she had taken this from him. Taken something that was special between him and Derek. Taken his innocence. Again a video was sent to the pack.

Stiles doesn’t know that Derek received the videos. He doesn’t see the the pack collectively losing their minds. He doesn’t see Derek destroy half the town looking for him. Or all the beatings semi-innocent supernatural beings received as a result. The people who had Stiles made their fatal mistake here. They didn’t know what hell the pack would weigh down on anyone who dared to harm their Stiles.

The next day yet another new face. A man this time. He beat Stiles. He favored a paddle, hitting his inner thighs, sides, chest. Over and over until his body was covered in rectangular bruises. Stiles screamed into this mans face, spit escaping onto his face. The man didn’t like that. He punched Stiles, bruising his jaw. He spat again. The man pulled a ball gag out of the box and forced it in Stiles’ mouth. Stiles screamed into it. He was pissed and everything hurt.

He was left alone for a long time, a night, full day, and another night. His various wounds had scabbed over. His shoulders ached. They were pulled up under his weight, but his legs were also pulled so he couldn’t relive the pressure. The first man came in again. He started by making incisions over his ribs. He started under Stiles’ armpits, going slow and deep. Over and over he went down to Stiles’ hip, around his groin, down his thighs. Just shallow enough he didn’t bleed out but deep enough to be agonizing. Stiles was hoarse from screaming. The man came up to face Stiles and licked the blood off the knife. He let Stiles adjust to the new pain for a wile. Then he brought out a pair of pliers. He set them on Stiles pinky toe. Slowly he closed them. Stiles bellowed in agony, taste blood from the force of is scream. He woke again and the man was sitting, eating an apple. The gag in his mouth made is jaw ache, his side burned with each breath, his toe was throbbing. The man came forward and took the gag out. He gave Stiles a piece of apple. It hurt to chew but he was starving. He ate three slices before the gag was forced back in.

Stiles lost count of the days after that. You could see his ribs in a spot were the man cut too deep. He had three broken toes. The woman had been back no less than five times. She liked depraved things. They told him horrible things. That his pack wasn’t looking for him. That Derek had moved on. That he was a useless human. That he was worth nothing. Some days they drugged him, he wasn’t sure what was real on those days.

The door opened one day and Stiles felt something shift. He looked up, ready for whatever fresh hell was coming today. When Derek stood in the doorway Stiles didn’t believe it. They’d drugged him enough to think it was a hallucination.

“COME ON, YOU THINK THIS WILL BREAK ME? YOU SHOULD TRY SOMETHING NEW YOU FUCKERS.” Stiles knew they could hear him. “YOU THNK I HAVEN’T SEEN DEREK BEFORE? YOU ARE FUCKING WRONG BITCHES.” 

When Stiles wakes up again he was in a bed. At first he wonders what new form of torture this is. He decided to enjoy this respite for however long it lasts. His entire body ached, he could feel every muscle, every bone. He may have gasped a bit, a few tears running down his face.

“Stiles? Are you awake?” Derek’s voice was soft, terrified. Stiles opened his eyes and found Derek. He looked like shit. His hair unkempt, face pale. But his eyes. They were shiny with tears, their expression haunted. Stiles patted the bed next to him.

When Derek came over Stiles held him close. As close as his pain would allow. Stiles never let Derek take his pain, but today his morals went out the window. Derek began leeching it away and Stiles wept. The relief was so pure, kind. Stiles caressed Derek’s face, kissing him with chapped lips and broken face.

“Are you real? Is any of this real? I cant- I can’t do this anymore. I need it to be over. Please, be real.” Derek gently put their foreheads together and breathed stiles air. Derek promised this is real, that Stiles was safe now. He could rest. Derek begged Stiles to stay here, alive.

Early in the morning Melissa came with her expanded med kit. The pack started shifts to keep Stiles comfortable, taking his pain. She looked him over. His face was scabbed over, but not serious. His arms had deep cuts but they seemed to be healing well; she put ointment on them and wrapped them in gauze. His chest and back were problematic. The cuts were very deep, some of them close to his ribs. She stitched up what she could and wrapped him up. His feet made her cry. Her adopted son, they took his toes. She sewed them up and bound them shaking the entire time. His legs seemed more bruised than anything. She asked everyone but Derek to leave to take Stiles’ boxers off. She knew what the signs of rape were. Stiles had them all. She took care of him the best she could, she kept his secret. She gave Derek instructions and medication and left. Stiles watched the entire thing without comment.

Stiles had is first nightmare that very night. He woke gasping, grabbing for Derek.

“Derek? Der, what-“ His hands found the wolf and his heart calmed. He held Derek. “Derek, thank god. They- they said you weren’t looking for me. That you would be glad I’m dead. Derek, I- I believed them. I let them in my head. I- Derek I’m so sorry you- I know you wouldn’t. Derek, I’m so sorry-“

“No, Stiles. No, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. They tortured you for three weeks Stiles, twenty three days. That is my fault. I am so sorry I failed you. I let you down. I wasn’t there to save you.” Derek held Stiles close, both of them comforting the other.

The first two weeks Stiles was home he slept. He may have been awake but he didn’t really remember. Slowly, agonizingly slow, he began to believe he was actually saved. Derek and the pack waited on him hand and foot. Derek brought him out to the couch one afternoon to watch a movie with everyone, including Stiles’ dad. Stiles leaned into Derek not really paying attention to the plot. That was until someone was being molested on screen. It was just a flash, just enough so you knew it happened. But it was enough. Suddenly he was back in the room, the woman riding him and whispering into his ear. Her scent, the feel of her flesh, it all came rushing around him. His entire body flinched, he pulled back from the heat at his back. The flashback grew in strength. He scrambled off the couch, begging her to stop. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop it. He just wanted her to stop. Derek’s scent broke through. He looked around the room. To all the sets of scared eyes pointed at him. His father seemed to know what happened. What had triggered his panic. Stiles looked at Derek, god he knew too.

“They sent you video didn’t they.” His voice came out dead, flat. Derek nodded. Everyone suddenly seemed to have somewhere else to be that very moment. Derek sat in front of Stiles, not touching him. Stiles noted the space with defeat. “You don’t have to pretend to want me now. It’s ok, I- I can move in with my dad until we can figure out who gets the house. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay. I don’t-“ Stiles couldn’t continue, his throat closing up.

“Stiles, can I touch you?” Stiles nodded at Derek. When Derek reached for him he flinched, but made himself go to Derek’s lap anyway. “I know- I was- Kate did that to me too. I will always want you.” Derek was always one of few words. But the ones he used had weight. Meaning. Stiles looked up, gauging Derek’s honesty.

“I want to believe you.” It came out like a whisper.

“Then believe me.” Derek caressed Stiles face, kissing his nose gently.

As Stiles healed there were many nights he didn’t sleep. Nights were he didn’t believe that he was actually saved. But Derek or the pack were always there to remind him. There were times where someone would touch him and he’d flinch. They were never too far away to hear his gasps and quickened heartbeat. Derek wasn’t perfect. They had fights, screaming matches, nights where they didn’t speak to each other. But even then they were there for each other.

One such night Stiles was mad. Derek had put himself in unneeded danger and Stiles wasn’t talking to him. They went to bed, they slept together even in the middle of a fight. Stiles woke in the early morning with his hip joint aching. His right hip hadn’t been the same since the meat cleaver. He got up to get some ibuprofen but as he stood int he kitchen he heard a sob. He looked back into the bedroom and saw Derek sitting on the bed. His head was in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Stiles called out to him, and the wolves ice blue eyes snapped to him. Before Stiles knew what was happening Derek was pushing him against the wall scenting behind his ear.  
“I woke up and you were gone. I thought you’d left me.” Stiles held Derek and let the man calm down.

“I wouldn’t leave like that. My hip hurt and I was taking something for it. I’m- I’m only mad because I love you. I love you so much Derek. I count bear to lose you. No, Der, don’t take the pain it’s fine.” Derek didn’t listen and Stiles’ hip was finally soothed. “Come on, we can talk more in the morning.” They did talk in the morning. They always came back together. Even when they fought they wanted the best for the other. They promised to apologize when they were wrong. To work together at being together. Life is never easy. But love made it more bearable.


End file.
